


Baseball

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were just playing a little baseball, in their own inimitable style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baseball

“No batter! No batter! No batter!” the Doctor called through his hands.

River, standing at the plate, her bushy hair pulled back through her cap in a ponytail, bat held high, turned and gave him a sloe-eyed look of retribution over her shoulder.

“Easy out!” the Doctor yelled, grinning.

She popped her gum at him and turned back to the mound. The pitcher threw, the bat hit with a solid crack!

Line drive, right down third base, she tossed her bat and ran flat out for first base.

The Doctor bounced lightly on his bench watching her run. Grinning like a schoolboy.

“What are you doing?” Amy asked. “She’s on our team.”

“I know, just part of the game. It’s fun!” He grinned at her.

“You do know she’s going to kill you, don’t you?” Amy said, staring at him from beneath her own baseball cap, her sleek red hair falling in a similar pony tail down her back.

“Yeah,” he said dreamily.

Rory picked up a bat and headed for the plate. “I really don’t need to hear this.”

Amy perked up. Rory readied his bat at the plate.

“Easy Out!” Amy yelled.

Rory turned and glared at her over his shoulder with an expression identical to River’s. Sometimes it was really easy to see the resemblance. Amy grinned.

Rory struck out twice, then bunted. Forcing a run.

River edged out from second base, taking a lead. Amy bounced up and grabbed a bat. “My turn!”

The Doctor clasped his hands under his chin and watched as his little Amelia loped out, all long legs and took up a stance, his Scottish shield maiden, ready to demolish the ball. He grinned.

She swung so hard the first time she twirled herself completely around, but missed, the ball hit with a smack in the catcher’s glove.

“Keep your eye on the ball, Amy!” River yelled.

Amy nodded, tensing her shoulders and hunkering down. The ball flew, she swung, there was an almighty CRACK! and the ball flew straight up in the air.

“Run, Amy! Run!” River yelled as she took off for third base. Amy didn’t wait to see where it landed, she ran. Rory sprinted for second in front of her.

By the time the catcher and pitcher managed to recover the ball, the bases were loaded. River looked like she was considering stealing home. But the catcher brandished the ball at her and she backed up, touching her foot to third base. She gave him a shark's smile.

After a second the catcher threw the ball to the pitcher and the Doctor popped up out of the dugout. He swung a huge bouquet of bats to test their weights, spraying bats everywhere when he lost his grip.

“I meant to do that!” he yelled, picking up a bat at random.

He gamboled over to home plate and took up a stance, bat high, butt stuck out.

“Easy out! Easy out!” Amy chanted.

“No batter! No batter! No batter!” River caroled.

“Bring ‘em in boys!” Rory waved to the outfielders.

“Oi!” the Doctor said, standing up straight and almost hitting the catcher in the head when he dropped his bat from his shoulder.

“Watch it!” the pitcher yelled in a guttural Pittsburgh accent. He shuffled back out of range.

“Sorry.” The Doctor apologized, shuffling his feet. He glared at his grinning teammates and took up a stance again. Bat high, butt out, mouth screwed up in a pooch of concentration, his floppy hair falling in his eyes under his hat.

He squinted into the sun looking for the ball. “no batter, no batter, no batter,” River chanted almost subvocally, but the sound itched across the back of his neck.

He turned to glare at her again.

Whoosh!

Smack!

“Strike one!”

He turned around, mouth falling open. “That doesn’t count! I wasn’t ready!”

“Strike one,” the Umpire reiterated.

The Doctor glowered and pulled his bat back up, he reached up and twisted his cap around backwards, and clenched his jaw.

The pitch!

He swung!

And drove the ball straight down into the ground.

The catcher leaned forward and pried it up with a pop of crumping dirt.

Amy was laughing her ass off.

Rory was stuck halfway between laughter and commiseration.

And River was standing there with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face.

“Okay, no more Mr. Nice Guy!” the Doctor said, as if it had all been a plan all along.

River giggled softly. He could feel it in his belly, even as the wind snatched the sound away.

He narrowed his eyes, he pulled up his bat, he shuffled his feet into the dirt.

The pitch.

The ball barreled toward him in slow motion.

He tensed his Time Lord muscles, determined to send it sailing over the outfield wall.

He calculated trajectories, timed the response, and swung!

His arms jarred as the ball hit the bat, sending a reverberation up the wood.

The ball soared, completely backwards, hit the fence behind the catcher, dented the chain link with the force of his hit, and sprang forward like a cartoon, sending the ball careening out over the diamond.

He dropped the bat and ran. River whooped and barreled for home plate, for the first home run.

The ball dropped just inside the baseline right in front of the sprinting Doctor. One of his flailing feet kicked it, right out from under the first baseman's mitt.

The Doctor panted as he hit first base and turned, barreling for second. Amy rounded third and yowled Scottish war cries as she longlegged it for home.

The first baseman finally grabbed the scudding ball and threw it to second, slipping on the wet grass at the last minute, the ball beaned the Doctor in the back of the head, he lurched, stumbled, and swatted, sending the ball bouncing into the outfield.

He rounded second as the second baseman and outfielders converged on the ball.

Rory ran, arms pumping around third, stepping on it solidly before charging for home, face intent, running like Huns were at his heels.

The Doctor ran for third, turned around, still running, to see where the ball was, the second baseman was just throwing it, the Doctor watched it fly over his head, and ran smack into the third base player.

They both went down, the ball flew over their heads, and the shortstop ran for it.

The Doctor scrambled up, stepping on the third base player’s glove. “Yow!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” the Doctor apologized, even as he ran for home.

“Home! Home! Home! Home!” River, Rory, and Amy chanted as he bandylegged his way down the home stretch, legs whirling.

The ball arched over his head, the catcher’s arm reached up for it.

The Doctor slid, right under the catcher’s arm, sliding feet first in a cloud of gravel, he sluiced forward, hitting heel, butt, and the back of his head over the hump of home plate, along with a lot of scratchy gravel.

The catcher reached down and tagged him on the forehead with the ball.

He stared up through the cloud of dust at the umpire. With a disgruntled look, the umpire sliced his hands wide. “Safe!”

“Yes!” the Doctor shot his arms up in victory, gravel sliding up the back of his shirt and down his sleeves.

Amy danced, Rory reached down and yanked him to his feet.

“We did it. We did it. We did it!” Amy sang and grabbed him up in a hug.

River glared at him with twinkling eyes and her arms crossed. “It’s a good thing these New Pittsburghers don’t play by traditional rules,” she said.

The Doctor grinned at her and went and tapped her on her adorable nose.

She pulled her nose away, eyes flirting with him, smiling.

“How long have you been a member of this little league again?” she asked.

“Oh,” he looked down at the watch on the inside of his wrist. “Since about 3 o’clock.”

“Hey mister!” the gruff catcher yelled, pushing up his catcher’s mask to reveal a twelve year old freckled face. “I thought you said you was gonna buy us pizza!”

—

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